Before 'Beyond'
by VD for VANDitta
Summary: First fic! West's thoughts and actions following "Bride"'s climax. May expand "Beyond 'Beyond'", but not entirely likely. Not truly "angst-y" but contains generous loathing, so I figured it would apply.


Curses. Curses to you all. Why in the world did it have to end up like this?? My body, my body's crushed, --everything I've worked for is crushed!-- No, my body is the least of it. Here I am trapped, head throbbing, leg snugly encased betwixt 3 huge pieces of stone (I can distinctly feel 3), a jagged marble slab pressing down on my torso, baring down on a fractured rib... The rib isn't hitting any particular organs I can feel, the leg isn't snapped, and I'm not feeling drowsy which leads me to the idea my brain isn't severely damaged, but then--

In the other room the products of my superior brain employing my solid limbs are destroyed, nigh-annihilated by the obsession of the soap-opera-physician I had placed _so_ much trust in. He had trusted me too, but none of that truly mattered, did it? Idiots, IDIOTS! He left. After my trust, his trust, and our mutual fulfillment of our trust, the fruition of all that blasted _emotional stock_ we were thrust in to... he left grasping the arm of some expendable exotic beauty, pulling her to safety, and for what? I was dismissed as some villain of the week, just as she would be let go of like some piece of fluff in at most a month... As though she were something special! The lothario never cared about humanity, not the way the sheep so fawningly said he did!

Bah, the idiocy is more suffocating than this tomb! HeeHee!

...

The betrayal. The betrayal was the worst thing I suppose. Without the blasted _emotional stock_ placed in our companionship he was just one of the many people who had failed me, failed as a sentient being! Too blasted willing to accept mediocrity: fame... love...

The whole blasted thing is one of the worst "evolutions" to ever happen to the human species! God, if he indeed exists, made yet another mistake putting so much emphasis, soo much incentive on the necessity of procreation when his creations could be doing things to better themselves instead of trusting chance to produce more lusting chimpanzees...

And look Cain, I _gave_ you a great love, a love that may have proven _significant_, not just aesthetically pleasing! With my hands I brought the important part of your Meg back! "Meg is dead"? Of course she's dead! But Meg was a squealing pig! The bride I made for you wasn't the most intelligent herself, but at least she was put together well... And yet, with all your love of Meg, with all the work I put into choosing the best elements of less-than-acceptable people, and with all I could have done with you, and with her, you left us... all! You left all the gods of the universe to join the ranks of those lusting chimpanzees--

--You, who could have proven a great supplement to my genius, only to knowingly reduce yourself... I'm more disgusted with you than I am with Hill! It's occasionally fun, an acceptable distraction listening to that bat flap around the belfry, laughing, pretending he's superior through the_ troglodytic destruction of others and their hard work_--!... ...When it starts to get annoying the humor is replaced by hate, but at the least it's a _good_ hate, a _productive_ hate, a hate that is _fueled by the tangible fantasy_ of feeling the insane, pompous winged head above me crushed to a bloody pulp... As much as I despise Cain right now our "respect" as ethical men of science stops me from such cathartic fantasies. Still, as you seem no villain to me, you've proven that there is no bond of partnership between us!

--That's it... A new beginning for me. Can't waste time cursing the darkness when I don't have the action to back it up! I hear that laughing hyena bark orders to my creations... I suppose it only makes sense with his imagined dominance of me the perfect disguise would be to move with them! Move the damned blocks like I hear Hill screaming about in the distance above me... As I rise I moan like one of the re-animated naturally, it conceals me naturally... The fumbling, rotting arms start to toss the stones around Hill; with my own barely hurt arms I grab the lump itself. The thing begins to ramble in my arms like the fool it is, until it finally realizes I'm not one of his bumbling golems.

"Wesssst!?!"

By this point, insults are beyond the simpleton. I throw it into the wall before moving on to the others. There's very little opportunity to fight the things off, but this trumps even my survival... Hill must pay. I start after the meddling detective first, go at him from his right, missing the arm; the fatso can barely turn around as I bash his onion-head in! The others though... when will the others come after--.

Yes! YES!!

One second to check after the braindead morons, THEY are being swarmed by MY creations! The snake with limbs, the hand on top of the head, Fran's mongrel who I gave Chapman's arm to! I'm proud, for the first time in several minutes I am proud! Aside from my current victim the others are either too distracted by my doodles or trying to get that bickering cranium back in the thin air to go after me! That's right... Even my most disregarded projects have a sense of purpose, _to kill you_!! I have an even better chance than I would have expected, I start to hit the pig even harder until his head looks worse off than his spouse's before chucking the bloody stone at the horse-faced vermin who has plagued me... I miss. Hill is back flying around and now his minions are shaking off mine. I limp over to get a better chance at footing, but there's no chance at that now... my aim! No, I managed to show the blockhead who I am, now I have to concentrate on showing that fact to everyone else in this world full of blockheads... The ghouls bump into each other, stumbling after me as I dig my way out of the place and back to the cover of moonlight. The "ghoul-royale" follows me, hitting the back of my head as if to try and redeem his messy failure of annihilating me, and flaps off into the distance, cackling like some witch and spitting like a cat. Hill's head flies laughing in some lamebrained triumph into the horizon, over the heads of two happy luddites in the distance.

I look at the two and grimace... The fools... The fools... They would go on, go on and do many things of no importance: Touch their lips together, join sperm and egg, join sperm and egg to new sperm and egg... They would go through the motions, prolong lives, record lives, see lives fade, have records destroyed... They would die, never again thinking of the only eventful chapter of their respective existances...

I look into the moon, at the man silhouetted in it... At the very least Hill would think of _me_ before he withered to a malformed cranium in a few years. Meanwhile, far away from their carnal madness, I will dream, and I will do, and I will become _immortal_.

I make my way towards the opposite direction...

...into the beyond!

---------------------------------

Dr. Herbert West was picked up, walking dazed across the sidewalks. A still anonymous testimony finally implicated him in the Miskatonic massacre. He spent the next 12 years of his life in prison.


End file.
